Stay Alive For Me
by nekokenna
Summary: Story-told version of "Stay Alive (reprise)." We can see Eliza's reaction to what happened, but the inner heartbreak of a mother is something else. How can Eliza deal with the death of her son?


**hello! So here's me with another hamiltrash one-shot... requested by a friend, she told me that if I didn't make her cry then it wasn't good enough. Well, I made her cry, so I hope you enjoy it! **

Eliza Hamilton hummed to herself as she strolled through her garden, stroking the flower petals she could reach without bending over. Alexander was working in his study, of course, and most of the children were asleep, so she had some time to herself.

Most of the children. She sighed to herself. Philip had said he was going "out." Eliza was afraid that his father's personality had taken its toll on Philip, and he was no doubt going to approach Mr. George Eaker, the man who had given a speech last week and included in it several negative things about Alexander Hamilton.

Eliza let her hands curl into fists. Alexander didn't deserve to be defended by Philip. He deserved every single consequence that came from what he had done. At least he respected her and kept his distance. He knew she needed time, and that was the only thing she was thankful to him for. That, and being a good father to his children, especially Philip. She smiled to herself. Since Alex and Philip were so alike, they spent many nights together writing poems.

Philip had come to the house about a half an hour ago, storming about something Eliza wasn't sure she wanted to know about. Then he'd left with something in his hands.

She rounded the last corner, then made her way back to the house with a bundle of flowers clasped tightly in her hands. After putting them in a vase, she called, "Alexander?"

No reply.

She turned. "Alexander? Are you home?" She slowly made her way up the stairs due to her being three months pregnant. But Alex wasn't in his office. Frowning, she went back downstairs. When she opened the door and looked around, she noticed someone running up to her house. It was a young man whom she had never seen before.

"Mrs. Hamilton! You must come immediately."

"Wha- Why?"

"It's your son, Philip. He was shot in a duel."

_No._

Eliza was out of the door in a second, not bothering to close it behind her. "Take me to him!" she cried.

"Follow me." The man turned and nearly ran down the road to the river. Any other time Eliza would've called for a carriage, but waiting for it would take too long.

During the walk there, Eliza's mind had mostly calmed down from its shock, but a bolt of dread shot through her when she laid her eyes on the small, white tent by the riverside.

No, no,_ no._

She burst into the tent and barely registered Alexander there before rushing to her son's side. Philip's eyes were shut tightly, his breathing ragged. Her eyes were drawn to the growing spot of red on his lower chest.

This couldn't be happening. Not her Philip.

"Alexander…" she whispered. Then louder, "Alexander, what happened? Who did this?!"

Alexander opened his mouth to reply, but he only shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

Heat blossomed in her chest. He had let this happen! This was his fault. Everything in her was tense, but she softened when a weak voice caused her to glance back down.

"Ma… I'm sorry." Philip was looking up at her, a strained smile on his face. "Don't blame Dad. It was my fault. I shouldn't have-" He suddenly gasped for breath, the red splotch alarmingly growing.

"Shh, Philip, it's all right," she told him softly. Her whole body was shaking, and she was five seconds away from breaking down into a sobbing mess.

She took a deep breath. Her son needed her right now. "It's not your fault. It's okay."

"I should've listened… I should've listened to you. Not to be rash. Or…" Eliza's heart broke when tears started to form in Philip's eyes.

"Ma, I don't want to go."

She gasped softly, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Don't… don't worry, Philip," she whispered through quivering lips. "It will be all right. Trust me."

"I-I want to play piano with you again. I want more time…" His body started to relax, his hand slacking in her grip.

_No, no, please, not yet._

She lowered her head, sobbing silently for a few seconds, then lifted it again and said, "Philip, you always change the melody anyways."

He laughed weakly. "Yeah. I would."

_My son…_ Eliza took a shaking breath before singing quietly, "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf." She listened to Philip's echo as he sang along, finishing after her, "Six, sept, huit, neuf."

"Good," she whispered, then sang the verse again, "Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf."

She waited for Philip's echo. His eyes were closed.

She tried again. "Sept, huit, neuf…"

_No_.

"Sept, huit…"

_No._

Philip's hand fell from hers as she stared at his still face. Alexander turned away, covering his eyes with his hands and crying quietly.

_Not my son… Not my precious Philip…_

Panic began to rise in her.

_No!_

Her heart beat faster until she couldn't keep her emotions inside of her anymore. Her grief, her pain…

Her acceptance of the inevitable...

Eliza screamed and cried until her throat was raw and no more tears would come.

**So...I'm not sure exactly what I should do with this. I'm thinking of adding another chapter featuring "It's Quiet Uptown"? Or should I just make this into a bunch of story told songs from Eliza's point of view? Please review and let me know what you thought of this! **


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